Benedict Arnold
by Passionworks
Summary: Surprise gift for A.M. Firelady Azula realized, just this once, that treachery was the least of her crimes… Oneshot rated for mild sexual content and violent character death.


**Author's Note: I am going to try and keep this as short as humanly possible…**

**This is actually my first Zhaozula piece and I have always wanted to write one. I finally get the chance! The inspiration has hit me –even if this whole thing seems a tad cliché –just a "tad" being the operative word here. A few of the details that come forth are completely new, especially in the Zhaozula category. But honestly, I am just scribing a straightforward story about betrayal to the royal crown –nothing too deep, nothing too complicated.**

**Some of you are probably wondering where the title originates. Time for history class: Benedict Arnold was a military leader during the American Revolution. He went against his duties after serving quite well on his side. In exchange for a hefty payment, among other things, he provided the British the locations of many key American forts, but once his envoy was captured, his plot was revealed. In contemporary terms, "Benedict Arnold" is a literary allusion that stands for the word, "traitor." I guess that explains what may happen in this story, right? But, the heck with it, I am proud of this title (for once), if I do say so myself. Thank you, Advanced Placement English IV.**

**There are a few things you folks need to know. This whole fic is an AU representation of Zhao's departure to the Northern Water Tribe. About a little over a year before the timeline of my story, Azula was wed to her father and she gave him one child (because I am one of those crazy, weird Ozula fans that hold the right to do whatever the heck I want anytime, anywhere). There are other details to this bit of plot, but they will be revealed if you read along. Also, in the latter regions of the story, Azula has a very out-of-character image. This is done intentionally. Her personality goes through a number of changes, which, in my eyes, illustrates what her true personality is if she were to face the situation I present to her. One more thing: Azula returns back to the Fire Nation before Zhao's fleet reaches the shores of the North Pole. The ship encountered one of Ozai's main vessels, which was assigned to the whereabouts of the newly crowned Firelady. This caused delay on the voyage as well –Zhao isn't killed until much later.**

**I think the song 'The Icicle Melts,' a beautiful, but sad melody by The Cranberries, had too much of an influence on me with the circumstances portrayed in the entire story. The direction I turned was not in the original plotline, but I think the alterations made for an appealing narrative in the end. It certainly assisted and even boosted the power I try to achieve with my dialogue. If there are any readers who have yet to listen to the song, I suggest that the act be done **_**after**_** you read this, if you decide to do so to start with. That way, you all can be mildly surprised when you interpret the conclusion to my tale.**

**I hate saying that I concluded the process of scribing this while stuck at home with a nasty cold, or possibly the flu. Yes, I managed to fall ill yet again. I did notice that the end sections of the piece are quite weak. If anyone, and I mean **_**anyone,**_** has any critique to give me, please, do not hesitate. If I get enough complaints about the issue, then I will resubmit the end when I'm back on my feet. I would say go easy on me, since I am quite ill at the moment, but be honest with your words if you have the time to give them. For the first time in my days as a FanFiction writer, I will ask for reviews. I have never demanded them before, but I know those who freely give them without question. I respect you all for that. And I also thank all my fans for their patience with me. I have not published much because of my school career, so I'm glad to have those who watch and subscribe to me without fail. Thanks for always being there for me!**

**I like to dedicate my stories to people; this time is no different. Because she was the first to hear about it, I devote this one to my friend, A.M. (I bet you did not see that one coming, cuz)!**

**There is no question that this was not one of my shortest Author's Notes ever –not that it matters. I could still go with fewer words and probably get my point across. Oh, well…**

Benedict Arnold

By: Passionworks

Admiral Zhao –yes, Admiral _was_ his new title –frowned at the sight of his cloudy breath in the icy atmosphere. He disliked the dreary weather; the white, snowy, mountainous blocks were a drag to stare at for hours and hours on end, but he was not involved in this whole proposal because he _enjoyed_ a little _sightseeing._ He offered a grin to the horizon, the images of death and destruction fluttering in his head. Zhao strongly felt that he was doing the Water Tribes a favor, taking out the moon, but he assumed the citizens would not _agree_ to his –or, rather, the Firelord's –agenda. Sniveling cowards such people were, but they were of little concern. They were still sleeping in_ iceboxes_ for Pete's sake –how industrialized could they _possibly_ be?

A mere minute elapsed –time ticked at a snail-sloth's pace around here. That disturbed him. The cold agitated him. But why bother wasting his precious breath of fire when the action was miles away? Zhao was not a big spender anymore –after that hard and equally embarrassing lesson from the Avatar; he tended to lean more _conservatively._

With a flap from the fine quality robe upon his shoulders, the admiral turned to the stairway that lead down to the inner hull of his naval warship. The temperature rose considerably, and the instant heat was so soothing to him. Even though he was a week into his pilgrimage to the North Pole, he still was not used to the fluctuating temperature. A little warmth did him some good; it may have been more effective if it lasted a little longer, but he had to sacrifice any bit of comfort to answer to the Firelord's demands. Yes, _anything_ for the Firelord, _anything_ at all!

The hallway was intricate, but it was nothing in comparison to the labyrinth that was a royal ship. Despite being one of Ozai's brightest and scholarly men, Zhao had to settle with a measly vessel –but what the heck? At least it was better than the outdated, archaic craft that was under the command of the banished prince (_anything_ was better than that, people). The corridor was rather dark as well: those _damn_ red lights were much too dim. The path to his chamber was a short one, so these said faults hardly annoyed him –they were like dust upon a broad shoulder –and what _mighty_ broad shoulders _he_ had!

At the metallic gate, two Imperial elites were assembled, guarding the entry in a fashion that suggested that someone was already in the room behind it. _At least they serve their purpose enough to satisfy him,_ he thought amusingly to himself. With a signal of his massive hand, the two cleared the entranceway. Zhao fumbled in his deep pockets for his key, but he discovered it in good time. The ship was a newer model –unlocking the door was not much of a task. The sound of the click reverberated in his ear; he thought it was a quick, but sweet tune, a lullaby, even (he was quite tired after such a long day, since the sun had long set hours ago). It then creaked on its hinges; the pleasant song from before just disappeared from his memory. Oh, bother –_if you cannot remember it now, it probably was not worth remembering to start with,_ he sneered silently.

The admiral was relieved to step into his chamber. After a terribly bleak evening, his urge to sleep was incredibly great. Once he removed his flowing robe, his eyes began to fix on those tantalizing scarlet sheets. _Finally, solitude at last…_

"Welcome, Admiral Zhao."

This startled him. With an ugly grimace, he faced his sudden company. The voice was chilling, recognizable –it was a woman's tone. _Funny, I wasn't expecting her at all –even at this hour of night…_

"Well, Princess Azula…"

He bowed in her presence. The faint light revealed almost nothing on her countenance –she appeared invisible –but he managed to catch just a speedy glimpse of that utterly vicious grin. She rose from the desk chair she was sitting on, stepped into better light, and shook her head.

"It is _Firelady_ Azula to you, Admiral."

"I apologize, milady."

The fact totally _slipped_ his mind. It had been at least a year since the proclamation of marriage between the Firelord and his daughter. Zhao initially thought the idea was rather _repulsive,_ but like any fair and respectable upperclassman, he remained silent. Disrespect against the crown was punishable by execution…

_And we wouldn't want that, now, would we…?_

"And what is it that brings you here at this hour?" he wondered aloud, though her reasons were obviously hers alone –he had no right or power to question her intentions. He regretted his words as soon as they fell from his lips.

Azula caught his lament, "Don't even bother offering me those _insincere_ apologies, Zhao."

She positioned herself just inches from him, her claws reaching maliciously toward his face. Zhao tensed...

He instantly relieved his apprehension once she warmly patted his shoulder. Her smile almost appeared demonic, like something that crawled out of the Spirit World in the hopes of carrying out unnecessary revenge. But she turned and gestured toward the admiral's perfectly made cot. Azula sat down, but Zhao refused to take a seat, so, being a gentleman, he stood above her. The distance in height between them elevated his_ ego_ a bit, but the Firelady understood all too well that she alone was in the position of dominance. There was no question to this; Zhao was completely unable to decline it.

"Now," Zhao began, "do you mind sharing your reason for being here tonight, milady?"

"You already pondered and asked me this, Admiral. But, if it is _only_ my explanation that you crave, then perhaps I _could_ offer you _at least_ that. Fair?"

"Indeed."

"I'll start off with something a bit off topic, since I know you are itching to ask me how I managed to slip onto your ship undetected. Did this cross your mind at all, Zhao?"

"It did not, I suppose, but now that you have brought it up, give me your answer."

"Precautions were relatively avoidable; your elites know how to keep their mouths shut in the face of threat. I'm pleased that they didn't bother enlightening you on even the most _extraneous_ of details, yet, they are still under _your _command, not mine. The Firelord demands all military specialists to teach the braches of the services the importance of respect to those who are _truly_ in power. Your men took to the lessons rather well."

"So, you _single-handedly_ seized dominance over a whole army of men?"

"Yes, I did just that. It is fantastic to think about what one lone _woman_ can do to a bunch of war torn males. Poor things, you probably overwork them."

"I don't overburden my men."

"Well, whatever it is you do, I'd say continue to do so."

"So you are giving me a report?"

"Perhaps."

Zhao wrinkled his thick nose in disgust, "I don't mean to be _rude,_ milady, but could you please get to the point of your presence?"

"Are you not curious as to how long I have lingered on your craft?" she teased, curling one of her perfectly groomed tresses with her index finger, "I think such knowledge would benefit you; it might give _you_ a reminder on how to _properly_ supervise your men."

"No. I'm already impressed with your efforts, so I advise you to not push my buttons."

"Have it your way, Admiral. Anyhow, you may recognize that my father has not allowed me to run any of his _usual_ errands since our union?"

"Of course. But I do recall the rationality of such a declaration."

Firelady Azula nodded, "Yes, yes. You are well informed. Not two months after our _incestuous_ marriage, I fell pregnant with his _third_ child –oh, how the thought disgusts me, since _I_ was his second. The responsibility embodied hefty burdens, but this is only one of a few arguments Father gave me for refusing my requests to join in on many of our nation's endeavors.

"Could you probably guess another?"

He smirked, "I don't think I want to, milady."

She laughed to herself in a _creepy_ sort of way, "Fine. I won't bother delving into it then."

"If it is your wish?" He questioned her hesitancy. Usually the girl ignored all demands made by those lower than her, as he was, so this statement resonated peculiarity from her being.

She looked off to a distant object on the admiral's desk. There was more it all than she was letting on, but Zhao decided it was in his best interest to let the Firelady ease into revealing anything to him on her own. He did not want to push her and plunge into her wrath –he had seen so many of his kind fall into that bloody trap, so his safety measures were justifiable. Besides, he was still unaware as to why she had come to him –she had yet to answer that for the record.

"Zhao?" she broke the brooding silence at random.

He raised a curious brow, "Please continue."

Azula sighed deeply, something else was on her mind at this point, "Did you hear any _unfortunate_ news from the royal palace recently?"

"I don't remember anything of the sort. Was there something I missed in the preparation for my departure? Any possibility of an interception of a messenger hawk?"

"No, that isn't it. It is more _personal_ than that."

_Personal? That's strange. The Firelord's daughter is not one to freely disclose events of her life, or anyone's for that matter…_

"Then what is it you wish to tell me?"

"I know you couldn't ever understand my dilemma," she started slowly, "but you will be the first person outside the palace to learn that the heir I had birthed for my father died only weeks after his premature delivery. Father decided, for the sake of stability, that it was best to keep this a secret for the time being."

"I am sorry for your loss."

Now, really the admiral could care less. He gladly held pride in the fact that he was a childless man. Children were too _troublesome_ to handle and he did not want the paternal life to cloud his aspiration to conquer the Water Tribes.

"Don't be," she snapped, "I didn't really love or devote any affection to the infant. I honestly believe that I should not have even been involved with the tasks of maternity until I was _at least_ of age."

She was correct, after all. The girl had announced that she was expecting just a month or so after her thirteenth birthday, therefore she was indeed a few years short of the proper marital age of sixteen.

But Zhao was not convinced that she was valid in judgment. Her ability to deceive was excellent, but with a subject so tender and intimate as this, it was incredibly difficult for her to manage her façade.

Azula continued, "But my father demanded the early conception. The war was his main case; he said that if we were to lose our lives in the quarrels of the nations, at least our offspring would hopefully be old enough to take our place. I rejected this argument, as there were a number of loopholes to his theory, but I conceived the child for him, nonetheless. The anger and resentment I felt during my pregnancy disabled any chance of attaching to the newborn after laboring for hours on end. I put the care taking duties on my servants –I only devoted myself to the necessary tasks of any mother, but it was all performed with an air of bitterness."

Zhao was aware that the royal family kept much of their affairs private in recent day, so he was unable to detect if she was being trustworthy. He had not heard much on the subject she was speaking of; it probably had something to do with Azula's uncertainty on the matter.

"Was it really all that _horrible,_ milady? I have come to believe you are overreacting."

"Don't give me that," she snarled viciously.

"I'm sorry to offend you."

"Huh, I'm _sure_ you are."

Zhao placed his hand to his chin, "I don't know if it is just me, but I don't see where you are going with this. I only asked you for your intentions of showing yourself tonight, not your relations with your father."

"I'm not finished yet; I'll get to it," she paused, "Father grew upset over the death, not because his son tragically lost his life, but because I failed to produce him a sufficient heir to our throne…

"Look, Zhao. It's only been a couple weeks since his death, but I can't get over the likelihood that something I did unintentionally killed him."

The admiral finally sat down next to her as she began to slip under the pressure. She shed a tear or two and buried her face in his neck. He stiffly wrapped his arms around her, though it was not in his common knowledge to console the distraught girl.

"Really, if you want my opinion, you shouldn't have to feel that way. These things happen; we are powerless to stop it."

"You're wrong. The spirit of supremacy wished to punish me for my sinful marriage. The spirits took the one human being I could ever learn to appreciate."

Zhao found himself confused, "So, you _did_ love the child? But you said before that you had no care for its life?"

Azula paused. The web she had weaved was thick; she realized then that there was no way out.

"All right," she sobbed, "I'll admit it: I _cherished_ my son dearly. I dedicated every moment I had with him to ensure that he understood that he was loved. He was completely _innocent._ Why did he have to suffer for my mistakes?"

Okay, this was totally out of Zhao's league, "Now, Azula, I don't think I'm the one you should be asking…"

She did not hear him, "My son was born with an undiagnosed terminal illness. The physician warned me that he would not live long enough to see his first month."

"I'm sorry to hear that…"

She fell into hysterics, "He almost made it, Zhao! My baby died right in my arms. He was just a couple days short of the doctor's deadline. And do you care to know what the worst part was?"

He stuttered, "Well, um, if it means so much to you, then go ahead…"

Azula paused and wiped the streaks of tears from her rosy cheeks, "The morning before he passed away, the doctor informed me that he was growing stronger –that he could possibly outgrow his infirmity…

"That doctor –the man I solely trusted with the betterment of my baby's health –lied to me. He _lied,_ just because Father decided it was best to despicably raise my spirits. Now, why would my father do that to me, his own daughter, his own wife, I ask you?"

By this time, the admiral was out of it, to be honest. The girl had been ranting, which was an activity she normally tried to avoid. She was generally calm and collected, but it was as if her old self had been swallowed under the bloody sheets of her marriage. She was, in total, a changed woman.

_What has become of her in such short time? Her desperation strikes me as odd. Pitiful girl, perhaps offering her a little sympathy is best. Besides, it could do me some good to boost my image with Ozai himself…_

Before he could proceed, Azula interrupted him, "Zhao, have you been _listening_ to me? Does the tale I present you lay _heavy_ on your heart as it does mine?"

He did not like that at all, "How could you _say_ that to me? Of course I have! And yes, I presume it does. Are you done? And for the last time, could you get to the point? It's past the midnight hour already."

The Firelady found his attitude very alarming; she was already emotionally unstable as it was.

But she depicted no form of anger, "Very well. I should apologize for keeping you up so late over all of this. Let me be honest: I just wanted someone to talk to about it, but there's more to what I have to say than that."

He rolled his eyes, "What is it now?"

"I see you _do_ have time to lend me your ears. Since Father is distressed over the instability on the throne, he insists on having me conceive again. I'm barely over the death of my first child; what _good_ would another infant do for me?"

"He wants what is best for the Fire Nation."

"The Fire Nation over me? I'm not trying to be rude, but my quandary is much more important than any event that goes on outside of the palace. He presented me no consolation when I told him the news, not even the slightest sign of heartache. If he has not the capacity to feel affection for his newborn child I delivered for him, then why should I show any concern for the nation under his command?"

"There are other chances for another heir –"

"But I do not _wish_ to deliver him another! I'm not going to keep birthing children in the hopes of finding my father's vision of the _perfect_ heir. What's more, I can't bear to have all of them die because of my blunders."

"What makes you so sure of that? The probability of you producing a sickly infant again is _slim,_ if you ask me."

She rudely scoffed, "Have you ever heard of the consequences of _incest_, Zhao?"

"I most certainly have," he chuckled, "But what part do _I_ play in all of this?"

She began to liven up, "Simple. The only way to _prevent_ such occurrences is to cease the marriage itself."

"… I suppose so…"

"Here is the sole reason as to why I have come to you: in the time that I have waited in hiding on your naval ship, I have come to realize that I am again due to conceive. Does this entice you?"

"But I thought you were not interested in having more? Does the death of your son still linger?"

"Oh, Zhao, of course it does. I loved and cared for my baby with all my heart, but there has to come a time when the healing should begin. _This,_ I believe, should be the moment in which I start."

The admiral scratched his fuzzy sideburns, "So, let me get this straight: are you asking me to be the _sire _of your next child?"

Azula's lips parted to reveal an affectionate smile, "In short, yes, yes I am."

"Why would you do that? Your father would have you slain, not to mention my life would be on the stake as well."

"This will never occur. Let me assure you of this. We will have him assassinated before he strikes at us. Once he falls, you can take the throne after the seizure of the Water Tribes. In this time, I will have prepared myself to mother your children; and, if possible, your first youth will have already been born by then."

Zhao was plainly hesitant, "I'm not sure I want to go along with this. I would be threatening the spiritual balance of fate and destiny. Perhaps the union between you and your father was meant to be in place? Along with that, I'm married myself! I couldn't just break the ties of my own nuptials to satisfy _your_ aspirations."

The admiral was actually quite interested in the Firelady's proposition, but the dangers of commencing made it difficult for him to reveal that. He was not going to openly admit to his sudden arousal, lest he be seen as too _vulnerable_ of a man.

She gave him a naughty look, "Oh, really? It just so happens, however, that you have yet to produce life with this mate. Do you conceal your real detestation to this woman? Are you too fearful of your own performance? Too afraid to pass your qualities on to another human being? Or, is there something else I need to know before I select you as the prime candidate to sire my next babe?"

It was time to hit him were it hurt, where it _really_ hurt, "You aren't _sterile,_ are you, darling?"

Zhao lost all tolerance, "I am not! Have you gone mad, woman, accusing me of such a fault?" How could she degrade him so?

She cackled at his reaction –she could not help it at all; it was definite that she was rising from her depression that plagued her just moments before.

"Oh, Zhao, I mean not to upset you," she reassured him and stroked his muscular arm, "It's just critical protocol: to mate with a barren, castrated man would be of little benefit to me, or the country. You understand, right?"

"Yes, milady."

"Good…"

He looked straight into her eyes. Oh, they were like unfathomable pools of liquid gold! He gave her a gentle smile as he then reached and pulled a strand of hair from her face. The desire to overpower and dominate was heavy within the very depths of his being. He inched his frame closer to hers…

"Wait," Azula scolded, sliding his already roving hands, "I just want to be sure that you understand the proposal –"

"I already know what is expected of me, milady."

"Then _reiterate_ it for me. I cannot put forward the reward of intercourse with a female as prominent as myself without knowing if you totally realize the task at hand."

"Why must you be so _precise_ in your schemes, milady?"

"What an _asinine_ question is that? My plans are never thwarted because all undergo strict considerations. For example: do you honestly believe that my brother, one who should be deemed wiser than his younger sibling, thinks anything through?"

"Your brother's _retardation_ means nothing to me. But you present a permissible excuse, I suppose."

"Now, do as I asked you, before I grow impatient."

"Madam, do forgive me for my outburst of irritation, but I am already in full awareness of the situation. Could we just get on with it? My men might grow suspicious if they see that I have yet to switch off the lights in my chamber."

"Don't let them run what is your show, Zhao. But fine, I'll answer to your demands. I do want to _guarantee_ conception, though."

"As do I."

"And don't worry about Father. Once I return to the Fire Nation, I will have him slaughtered. You will not be blamed or accused of this crime. By my order, the royal house will announce it as a death of natural causes. Then you can take the seat next to me on the throne."

Zhao totally forgot about his wife back at home. The idea of being crowned Firelord was far too important to pass up; it brought a huge grin to his countenance, "You're _sure_ he will be out of the way when I arrive from my conquest to the Water Tribes?"

"I'm positive…"

………

Firelady Azula had no way of knowing if her plan had been fruitful until a few more weeks passed; she assumed achievement –her calculations were never faulty. The consequence of her actions with the high admiral were barely noticeable as of yet, but nothing stayed a secret under her father's vigilant reign. It was only a matter of days after her return to the mainland that she was subjected to reprimand. Her father had called her down to a private meeting in the throne room the previous evening.

At the strike of dawn, she approached him. She was unruffled under the pressure of his intensifying anger. Though she knew there was the issue of retribution to deal with, she still managed to look at him straight in the eye.

Firelord Ozai started off slow and friendly, "Azula, my _dearest_ wife."

"Good morning, Father," she said cautiously, "what is it you wish to discuss?"

He shook his head and crinkled his nose, "The _child,_ Azula."

"Yes, Father, I'm terribly upset over his tragic death, and I would ask to have more time to heal before we proceed to have another."

"No, _that_ child's life is long behind me –it brings much abhorrence to think that that child came from my bloodline. To tell you the truth, I knew he'd succumb to the illness he was born with."

"I agree, but it did not stop me from caring for him in the time that he was alive. I don't ever recall _you_ holding him or offering any sort of fondness toward him. _Not once._ Doesn't that _bother_ you at all?"

"Not really. But I didn't call you down to hear you whine about the past."

"Then what do you want?"

"I already told you: the _child._"

She decided to play along, "We don't _have_ a child anymore, Father."

"_I_ don't, but apparently, _you_ do…"

_He found out –how in the heck did he find out so quickly?_

"Yes, dear, I know what you did on that vessel. Zhao's seamen reported _suspicious_ activity to me. Azula, tell me _why_ you had an _affair_ with one of my highest admirals?"

Azula was in no position to lie, but she was a calculative master under interrogation, "Father, it wasn't an _affair_ of sorts; it was more like a one night stand –there is little chance that Zhao _actually_ impregnated me."

"I disagree. I think you planned this, and I want a _thorough_ explanation."

"You _really_ want to know, Father?"

"Yes, I do."

"Fine. I didn't want to lose another child. _Unlike_ you, I was completely devastated when I watched our son seep his last breath; I fancied not to repeat the calamity. Zhao was the only man that seemed to have the credentials I was seeking in an attractive mate. We'd have a respectable, _healthy_ heir, Father. Isn't that what you want, since our nation is falling apart under its own insecurity?"

Ozai slipped past her question with another, "So, you challenged the laws of the Fire Nation so that you could be _inseminated_ by another man? How could you possibly have an affair outside of wedlock?"

"_Well, how could you marry your own daughter?"_

"The explanation of our nuptials has been discussed countless times, Azula. I'll reiterate: having the two most powerful members of the Fire Nation on the throne ensures that nothing slips past us. Those in the countries we seek to conquer could never match our supremacy. In short, this matrimony spurs fear and strict order to the citizens. It keeps them in line and out of trouble. Now, if all the inhabitants find out that their sovereign birthed an heir sired by another man, they could possibly see me as feeble and weak for allowing it to go on under my reign."

"Father, this is not an issue about you –"

"Of course it is!"

Azula snarled, "No, it is most _certainly_ not. Think about the children, Father. If we keep producing weak specimens for the throne, then the chance of our bloodline keeping it is slim. It isn't like you lack representation by not being the father of my next child –_if_ I am pregnant with Zhao's baby after all. I am _your _daughter; the child I gave birth to previously was practically my own _brother._ Don't you see the devastating consequences of our union? If you want my opinion, incest is _equally_ immoral as an extramarital affair, if not more."

"I don't care about your _petty_ preferences," Ozai retorted, "and I have the nation under control."

"Oh, do you?"

The Firelord gave her a weak, nervous smile, but did not answer her.

"But you are straying from the matter of hand," he then said after a moment of silence, "You should know the consequences of your actions. I will not reserve my judgment: you _will_ receive the proper punishment."

"What about Zhao?"

"I heard his fleet just reached the Water Tribe's territory. The victory we seek will be reached in a matter of time. Once the battle is waged and Admiral Zhao lowers his anchors on the mainland, I will have him arrested and tried for treason. You may face a similar fate, if it _is_ discovered that you are with child."

"Doesn't that seem a bit harsh?"

"Not at all."

Azula crossed her arms and smirked, "Father, I don't think I should be disciplined for taking precautions."

It was time for her to lay on the _sympathy,_ "I _eventually_ would have told you about it, honest…"

Ozai rolled his tired, uninterested eyes, "It doesn't matter _when,_ Azula. Really, that has little effect on me. I just can't get over the fact that you would _choose _Zhao over me. It… _irks_ me, shall we say."

"I apologize, Father," she consoled, walking up to him seductively, "Come down to the _bedroom_ with me, and see if I can…

"…_Make it up to you…" _

………

Azula stood directly in front of a glass mirror, brushing her tresses with a sturdy brush. She stared desperately at her drawn face. Her languid, lethargic eyes glared back –she looked demonic, evil. It was easy to tell that she had barely slept, despite spending an extra few hours in bed with her father. He was still slumbering behind her, snoring as loud as the factories that operated outside the palace city. Once she was satisfied with how she appeared, she departed from the mirror and sat down next to him. Slowly, warily, she touched his shoulder, rubbing it with _deceptive_ affection.

"Father," she purred in his ear.

He stirred and offered a lazy expression. He rose, flipping the covers down to his waist.

"What?"

Azula trembled, "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, Father, and I know you're upset with me over my _affair_ with Zhao, but I really do want to set the record straight."

"What _record_ is there to set straight, Azula? The deed is done; I can't remove the problem –_yet,_ at least."

She widened her golden eyes and gulped audibly, "I assume it _is_ your wish to slay my unborn child?"

"I suppose so," he sneered, "but it is a complicated subject to delve into."

"Then why did you reveal it?"

"Come now, how_ immature_ are you?" he retorted, "By law, I hold the right to eliminate any threat to _my_ supremacy. If Zhao is presumably the father of this child you may be carrying, then he may aspire to steal the throne from me. By eradicating the child, I exterminate the risk of such a transaction."

She placed her arms around his shoulders and granted him a _needless_ kiss to his lips, playing into her father's lustful side, "Father, that would be an unruly and unnecessary gesture. As I said to you this morning, the reason for intercourse with Zhao was to extract the possibility of birthing a defective heir. The chances of producing a sickly child would drastically reduce if you give this infant a _chance_ to live."

Ozai pushed his daughter down, "You know I can't do that."

Azula was offended, "Look, you already _forced_ me to tie the knot, now you're going to _persuade_ me to allow another one of my young infants to die?"

Ozai cackled, "You act as if that is a bad thing. Our mission on this throne is to better the generations after us. The more effort we put into raising a child _we ourselves_ produce…"

"Life doesn't work like that, Father. Hereditarily speaking, we're too close as relatives to create adequate life. And our union does nothing to keep our bloodline pure. As an equal member of royalty, I demand the _right_ to hold this child, and I expect you, as my husband, to _support_ me with this decision. Can't you do that for me?"

"You're not the only one in on this, I'm sure. I've come to consider that you want me to do this for Zhao's sake too."

"Perhaps. To be honest, he'd probably make a better father _and_ husband than you…"

Ozai grinned maliciously, "Do you _really_ believe that?"

Azula put her hand to her abdomen, "Yes. Actually, I do…"

She shot out a cold blast of lightning directly at her father's heart. The motion was too quick for even the slightest reaction. The bolt entered his flesh with a powerfully physical jolt and he endured a number of seizing convulsions. Time ticked so slowly in those seconds of suffering and with a thud, he dropped to the bedroom floor, never to _stir_ again…

………

Ozai's sudden death had little effect on the Firelady as she dutifully tended to her preparations for the birth of Zhao's child. It had been two weeks since the event of his demise; he had long since been cremated by the royal sages during his ceremonial funeral. Enough time had passed for her to realize that she was _indeed_ having a baby again. Without her father _breathing_ down her neck, the pregnancy was going smoothly so far, but it was still a little early in the game. She had yet to make the news public, and she had yet to recite a proper marriage proposal to Zhao, who had not returned from his voyage to the North Pole. It was likely that intelligence would soon arrive by messenger hawk. The Water Tribes were an easy target for the Fire Nation, but they had remained untouched during the entirety of the war. This did not mean that they were ill prepared for the mêlée on their homeland –no, it did not mean that at all. However, she was assured that Zhao was equipped for whatever arose there; he was a _reliable_ man: the quality she adamantly _desired_ when selecting him as her future partner.

Azula sat alone at the dining room table, as she was the sole member of the palace permitted to eat at this hour. It was about six hours past midnight when a messenger made her presence known. The girl was young, about Azula's age, maybe a little older, and in her hand she grasped a parchment scroll. The thing was intricately laced by a black ribbon, which struck the Firelady as odd.

"Milady," the servant huffed after making the long walk, "This message just came in from Admiral Zhao's fleet. Perhaps it is news on the success of the endeavor?"

Azula bit down on a bit of finely baked bread before relieving the girl of the scroll.

"Thank you. Now leave and give me my privacy." She waved her hand in a typical motion.

"Yes, madam."

After kneeling in respect, the girl stormed off and left her superior to the confines of the dining room. Curious, the Firelady unwrapped the delicate string and sat it down at the table. Pulling the message apart, she read aloud:

"Due to unexpected assistance from the Avatar, the voyage and battle waged on the Northern Water Tribe was an unforeseen failure. Though, despite the difficulties faced, the fleet only saw one casualty. Admiral Zhao lost his life in combat with the Avatar, but his body was never recovered…"

She stopped reading.

_Zhao lost his life? Certainly this was a mistake. It was a trick –yes, a trick of sorts. Or another man died that day…_

She shook her thoughts out of her head as she continued:

"Because of the unfortunate circumstances, the entire fleet will be returning empty-handed within about two or three weeks. Zhao will remain at the Water Tribe, but he will be forever engraved in our hearts. Liberties have been taken to request a proper funeral and ceremony to commemorate his life and his duties to our nation.

Signed, General Iroh."

_So, a wanted fugitive sent this letter? This may reveal where my banished brother is hiding…_

But this was really the least of her concerns. In a split-second of thought, she decided it was best to allow Zuko and Uncle to wander away from the Water Tribes. Azula had no interest in traveling to that forsaken pit of ice.

_Zhao died on his conquest…_

And she was carrying _his_ unborn child. How could he do that to her? Why?

_He died for me because he loved me…_

………

The months passed with little incident. Reports of Zuko's whereabouts came and went, but Azula did nothing to reciprocate. The young woman had spent the last twelve hours or so birthing the fallen admiral's infant. The time dragged on at a viciously slow pace, but she tolerated it; this was her second child, after all. Surely the process would run more smoothly than the first.

After an intense effort on her being, she finally relieved herself of the burden. The family physician –the one that assisted in the delivery of her son –grasped the newborn firmly and took it out of her train of vision. This was bothersome to her, as she developed a blanket of _fondness_ and a desire to _protect_ the child over the past months.

"Doctor," she shouted to no one in particular, "Where is my child? I command you to bring it to me at once."

A nurse or two strode past her, giving her a few faintly suspicious glares. None dared to aid their Firelady.

"Come, nurse," she spat, managing to grab one of the aides by the collar, "what could _possibly_ be the reason for the holdup?"

The nurse fumbled over her words, "I… I'm not sure… milady…"

Azula released the collar, which faltered the woman's stance. She nervously exited and the woman found herself alone once again.

She crossed her arms at her chest, "Could someone _please_ answer my claim…?"

She waited for about five minutes or so, not too long. The doctor entered stoically, holding a neatly wrapped bundle. The face swaddled in the blankets was shielded from view, which made Azula all the more concerned.

"How is my baby, Doctor?"

"You whelped a _daughter,_ milady…"

"That's wonderful. May I _see_ her now?"

The physician frowned, "I'm afraid I have some grim news. I must regretfully inform you that she was a _stillborn,_ which is our only explanation for the delay. We tried our best to resuscitate her, but to no avail.

"I'm sorry. You're daughter is _dead,_ milady…"

Azula's eyes swelled with her burning tears, "And you're sure you did _everything_ feasible?"

"Yes, madam. You can have a moment alone with her if you'd like."

"I would like that, thank you…"

She opened her arms and the doctor gave the cold bundle to her. With sincere apprehension, Azula uncovered her daughter's stony, ghost-like countenance. The infant's eyes were sealed shut, and her body was shaped like a cocoon.

She then uncomfortably gazed upward, "I _thank_ you all for your concern, but I would prefer solitude with my daughter, if you don't mind?"

The tending aides did as they were told.

Turning her attention back to the silent child, Azula placed her to her heart and rocked her absently. There was no explaining the _swarm_ of emotions she was feeling at the moment, and she really had no interest in delving into them.

Then, the tears poured down. She massaged the baby's cheeks with her finger and kissed the tiny forehead.

_Oh, great spirits, why did she have to pass?_

And Azula realized that her efforts to reproduce a healthy life were in vain, even when the chances of a devastating reoccurrence were so small. The night she happily enlightened Zhao haunted her like the monsters she feared as a child.

Yes, she could do no wrong, no wrong at all…

And she betrayed _herself_ by actually believing it…


End file.
